


We're Just Children Wanting Children Of Our Own

by ohmarqueliot



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e05 A Life in the Day, M/M, baby teddy coldwater, two sappy dorks having a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 03:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15452460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmarqueliot/pseuds/ohmarqueliot
Summary: After the birth of Quentin's son, Eliot tries to figure out how he's supposed to feel.





	We're Just Children Wanting Children Of Our Own

“And that's where your daddy fell into the stream chasing after the rabbit he shot because he was too impatient to do the aiming spell. And _that's_ where he almost burned the forest down because he wanted better light and wasn't paying attention to the size of the flame he was making.”  
  
Eliot snorted, looking at Quentin out of the corner of his eye. “At least you're telling him the honest version. I'm pretty sure that's not what he's going to hear ten years from now.”

  
Quentin grinned back at him unabashedly. “Well he won't be hearing them from me, but I know you better than to leave him uneducated on the fact that his father seems to end up being called the Fool in any story he turns up in.”

  
Eliot smiled innocently. “I can't imagine why,” he said innocently, as Quentin stumbled slightly mid step, lifting his arms slightly so as not to jostle the precious bundle in his arms.

  
The two of them were taking little Teddy on his first adventure. That is, a walk around the clearing. Arielle was having a much needed rest, and Quentin had decided that it was time to introduce his son to the great outdoors.

  
Eliot wasn't sure how much a two week old baby could take it, but he wasn't going to argue.

  
He stopped when Quentin did, watched him look down at his feet and saw his bootlace undone. “Shoot.”

  
“I don't think they care about swearing at this age.”

  
“Can you hold him for a sec?” Quentin asked, ignoring his words and adjusting his grip on Teddy in order to pass him over.

  
Eliot felt a nervous twinge low in his gut. “Well, I –“ he started, but gave up when the baby was thrust into his arms with no care to whether he would fumble or hold him too tight or too loose or just plain fuck him up with his proximity. He stared down at the infant, not quite sure what to say or do or feel.

  
He felt a lot of things, which is why he'd avoided and sidestepped his way out of being too close with Teddy. He'd held him a few times - to not when invited would have been weird and probably insulting somehow he’d assumed, but he'd managed to pass him back quickly enough each time. Quentin and Arielle were completely enamoured with this tiny human that they had managed to make together, and so far it was a rare occasion where neither of them had him in their arms. He'd spent most of his time doing everything else - preparing food, visiting the market for supplies, working on the mosaic. Let them have this time with him.

  
Teddy stretched in his arms, doing his best to escape his little blanket despite his slumber, and Eliot tightened his grip, panic flooding him for a split second that he would squirm out of his arms. He wasn't good at this, had no experience around kids or children. Hell, he had no experience with any of it. How could he be a parent after the type of parents his had been?

  
But that wasn't a fear worth having, because he wasn't the kids parent, was he? He was... something? Nothing?

  
Which was part of the reason why he felt so uncomfortable holding Teddy. He was constantly torn between being terrified to be around him to loving him too much to being overcome with uncertainty about how much he was supposed to care.

  
Teddy squirmed again, gentler this time, his tiny hand coming up to his face as he opened his mouth in a yawn. All of Eliot's conflicting thoughts fled, every part of him softening as he watched his face scrunch up and then relax. Shifting his grip slightly, he tucked the blanket more firmly around him once more, letting his fingers wander over his soft skin, marvelling at how someone could be so small, so fragile, so perfect.

  
“You know you're his father too, right?”

  
Surprised, he looked up to see Quentin watching him from a few feet away, his eyes full of warmth. Eliot's shoulders stiffened awkwardly at being caught in such a vulnerable moment. “Hmm. You do know how sex works, right Q?” he asked dryly, feeling safe behind words and wit. “If I have sex with you and you have sex with her, that doesn't mean I get her pregnant.” He paused, and then shrugged. “Sure, there was that one time where the three of us got rowdy, but we already worked out that the timing doesn't line up...”

  
Quentin rolled his eyes. “That's not what I mean and you know it.” Tilting his head, his eyes darted over the two of them with so much affection that he didn't quite know what to do with it. “This is our little family. All four of us.”

  
Eliot looked down at Teddy again, brushing his thumb over his head, feeling the soft fuzz of his hair. For once, he was speechless. How could there possibly be words for how much that sentiment meant to him? His throat suddenly felt tight. “I never truly had a family until Margo, and then only Margo until you.” He risked a glance at Quentin, and felt an odd twinge at the way he pressed his lips together in commiseration. “I don't really know how to do this,” he admitted, as though it wasn't something that was painfully obvious.

  
“You're doing great.” Closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arm around Eliot's waist and leaned his head against his shoulder, looking down at his son with the same expression that had lived on his face for the last two weeks. “The secret is that none of us know what we're doing.”  
  
Eliot huffed a laugh. “Coldwater, I have never seen anyone more in his element than you are as a father.”  
  
He beamed up at him for a moment, then his smile faltered slightly. “Do you think about Fray often?”  
  
Eliot let his breath out slowly, leaning his head to the side to rest against Quentin's. “More than I thought I would to start with. And more so recently. Fen would have been an amazing mother.” He blinked down at Teddy's tiny face, ever wondering at the swell of emotion that the sight drew in him. “I never wanted to be a father until it was upon me, and then I was so furious to lose her. I never saw her like this.” Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he pulled away in order to look at Quentin. “I don't need to be his father. I just need it to be ok that I care about him this much.”

  
“Of course it's ok,” Quentin said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled reassuringly. “And you're certainly more than weird Uncle Eliot. He might be my blood but you're my blood too.”

  
Eliot raised his eyebrows. “You know I've done some kinky shit in my time, but incest is a bit beyond me.”  
  
Quentin rolled his eyes, nudging his shoulder with his own. “Will you just shut up and let me tell you that I love you?”

  
“Oh, Q I know that already.” But it warmed him beyond words to hear it all the same.

  
“Come on,” Quentin said, replacing his arm around his waist and poking at Teddy's belly as he started to stir. “Let's get our boy inside.”

  
Our boy. Our family. He liked the sound of that.


End file.
